


Pretty please

by Beromei (Taromei)



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Breathplay, F/M, Face-Sitting, Femdom, PWP, fwb probably, god i dont know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:35:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taromei/pseuds/Beromei
Summary: She frowns at him. "I'm not going to cuddle.""Wouldn't dream of it," he says, but keeps teasing and tugging at the hems. Still smirking."You wouldn't survive another round with me," Meg tells him, but when he doesn't respond but for a smirk that's slyer still, she shrugs, suit yourself, and rips his chiton clean off his body.
Relationships: Megaera/Zagreus (Hades Video Game)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 129





	Pretty please

**Author's Note:**

> By no means is this a shining paragon of character writing lol. It's just trashy fuck

Blissed-out and half conscious isn't Zag at his sharpest, but it's one of his better looks. He stirs at her touch and manages a goofy little half-smirk back. "M'good," he slurs to her silent question. "Real good. Thanks, Meg."

Meg rolls her eyes.

He  _ is _ sweet like this. His chiton's all rucked up and pushed down and covered in—well. There's a sheen of sweat on his abdomen.

His fingers are playing at Meg's clothes.

She frowns at him. "I'm not going to cuddle."

"Wouldn't dream of it," he says, but keeps teasing and tugging at the hems. Still smirking.

"You wouldn't survive another round with me," Meg tells him, but when he doesn't respond but for a smirk that's slyer still, she shrugs,  _ suit yourself,  _ and rips his chiton clean off his body.

* * *

Good prince and fearless scion of the Underworld, slayer of its beasts and routine facer of death, still fucking jerks like a pussy when she presses a thumb to his asshole. "What," she snaps, and Prince Zagreus squeaks, "Nothing. Carry on."

He's still pliant from round one and goes wherever she puts him. Spreads his legs nice and easy at a touch, albeit from the butt of her whip. Out comes the oil again but this time she ignores his cock.

“What are you gonna do,” Zag says, breathless, so she says, “Quiet.”

The answer: just tease, for a second. He’s not used to this but more importantly she’s having fun with him. She prods again and pretends to pretend not to hear his stupid little whimper.

“Don’t be pathetic,” she tells him, which just makes him shudder. Ah, but this is a nice change—having him shut up for once. She crawls a hand up his chest, flicks his nipple and he hitches his breath, then coats her fingers in oil. And—

Oh. The sound Zag makes at that might be better than his grunts of pain.

“Shut up,” she says, instead of saying so. Smacks his inner thigh with the end of her whip to hear his voice go high. A close contest, then. He’s warm inside. When she looks up at his face he’s gazing back with an almost-bleary sort of wonder, like he can’t wait to see what she’ll do next. So Meg crooks her finger.

And there—well. He’s not touching her, and she’s not touching herself, but seeing him fall apart so utterly at such a minute, invisible movement is its own kind of pleasure, of satisfaction. Fucking gratifying, given all the time she’s spent whipping him to shreds on the battlefield and watching him get up and crawl back to her each time. Try it now, Zagreus—she doubts he could even hold a sword like this. His whole body’s trembling, his muscles all gone taut, something jumping in his jaw. His throat’s an exposed line because he’s thrown his head back. Meg could bite him there if she felt like it, or kiss him. She shoves another finger in his ass instead.

“Meg,  _ Meg _ ,  _ ah _ , Meg-aera—”

“ _ Quiet _ ,” she growls. “I’m sick of your voice. I’ll gag you if I have to.”

His cock jumps at that and his jaw works, though finally in blessed silence. Meg rolls her eyes again. Thrusts her fingers in a few times to hear him whine, to see him fist the sheets, watch the bob of his cock like a bored cat regarding a toy.

“You’re a pain in my goddamn ass, you know that,” she mutters, and vaguely she sees him frantically nod. Cute. “Figured I should return the favor.”

“Thanks,” she hears him say, faintly, so she snorts.

"Why don't you take over," Meg says. Guides his limp hand down to where she's still got two fingers buried deep in him and pets him until he stirs, presses a finger in alongside hers with a soft moan. "I think I've done enough."

Zag groans. "Yeah," he says. "Meg…"

Meg leans over him. "You should thank me, Zagreus."

"Yeah," Zag gasps. Almost sobs, really. Working two fingers now and they barely fit. "Yeah, please. Please…"

She barely smirks. He can't see her anyway, not through the welling tears. Just slips down her leggings and shifts to straddle his face. "Go on, then," she drawls. "Do your worst."

He’s decent with his tongue, she’ll give him that, and about as keen to please as he is stubborn. Even distracted by his fingers in his ass he does alright, lapping at her until she makes a pleased sound and then doubling down. She grabs a handful of his hair—yanks it. “Do better,” she hisses, shoving harder against his mouth, and grins at the vibrations from his resulting high moan.

Feels good. She alternates between petting through his hair and tugging on it, hard. His golden laurels have long since been discarded, which is sort of a pity—it might have been fun to shove them in his mouth. At least if it weren’t for how cute it was when he used it properly. For once.

She goes like that a while, grinding down onto his eager face until she comes with a little sigh. He's still squirming when she uses his slackening mouth to ride it out. His fingers can't get deep enough, she knows. Zag's hips are writhing, thrusting unevenly onto his own hand, hard cock leaking onto his abdomen. He reaches up with his free hand and clutches her thigh tight, so hard it leaves marks.

"What," Meg says indifferently. "You want  _ more _ from me?"

"Please," Zagreus whispers. He won't touch himself. She hasn't said he couldn't, though. But he won't.

She has to admit, he does look nice this way. Open-thighed and teary-eyed, hips jerking, lips smeared with her come. She trails her fingers over his throat and watches him shut his eyes tight while his mouth works a silent plea. So she squeezes a little until he gasps. Makes a collar of her hand.

There's a thought.

"You'd like it, wouldn't you," she murmurs, and he nods wildly under her hand without even knowing what she means. "I suppose I could collar you. You might look nice. Maybe you would behave for once."

"Please," he whispers again, breathless. "Meg."

"Shut up." Meg squeezes harder until he whines. His fingers have slowed. "You can't even work for it yourself. I have to do everything."

"Sorry," he mouths up at her, the air gone from his lungs and the cockiness almost from his face. It’s a little endearing. His eyes are starting to go hazy. She doesn't let go of his throat. Just moves her hips down to straddle his cock. His eyes roll back but then fix back on hers, bleary and desperate.

She slaps him and he shudders. "I didn't tell you to stop using your fingers," she says, and he starts moving them again, slow and unfocused. Fine, his loss, not her problem.

She doesn't sink down on his cock, just ruts along it, rubs her clit against the shaft, gets it wet with the slide of her cunt. Fucks him slow and hard like that while his fingers thrust desperately inside himself, occasionally moaning silently when he hits something good. She's still got her hand on his throat. Good thing he doesn't die easy. Might ruin the fun for once if he did.

Zag's a fucking mess by the time he comes, red and blotchy with tears streaming from his eyes. Damn near splatters his chin with his own come, paints his chest white and passes the fuck out with his fingers still buried in his own ass. Meg is panting, keeps rocking down against his softening cock and comes a second time to the look and feel of his unconscious body under her. The rise and fall of his chest, his lolling head. His hand's still on her thigh, beseeching her not to leave.

Because she’s so benevolent she tugs his hand free of himself. Gently, even. Wipes him off on his sheets—gods, but this place is a sty and that’s his fucking problem to deal with. Even grabs his shredded chiton off the floor and uses it to clean up his chest and thighs.

Looks at him for a second.

He’s sweet this way. Not causing trouble for once. Meg takes his hand, the one that had been grasping at her so pitifully, and locks her fingers with his. He doesn’t wake but does make a sleepy little sound in response, and his lip quirks, like he might be about to smirk at her again.

Meg leans back on his chest and listens to him breathe, for a little while longer.

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops I still haven't finished the game! Sorry! Hopefully it was fine anyway


End file.
